


Love's Not Time's Fool

by MalkMcJorma



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27066364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalkMcJorma/pseuds/MalkMcJorma
Summary: A short "AU of an AU" ficlet in my "Sunray" universe. Time's not an impediment to true love for someone time does not touch.
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Original Male Character, Willow Rosenberg/Buffy Summers





	Love's Not Time's Fool

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I wrote one afternoon to get back into the groove with the main storyline. Since then I've only corrected a few grammar errors, so it's pretty much just stream of consciousness - continuity errors and all.

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds_

_Admit impediments. Love is not love_

_Which alters when it alteration finds,_

_Or bends with the remover to remove._

_O no! it is an ever-fixed mark_

_That looks on tempests and is never shaken;_

_It is the star to every wand’ring bark,_

_Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken._

_Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks_

_Within his bending sickle’s compass come;_

_Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,_

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

_If this be error and upon me prov’d,_

_I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d._

\- W.S.: Sonnet #116

* * *

He came to visit you every 14th of December. For the first two years it was from behind the glass separating you two. It took all your self-restraint not to smash the glass and jump into his arms. But you didn’t do it. That would have only added time to your sentence.

He never blamed you, he never said much at all. The only thing he invariably said was “Happy birthday, Sunray.” He mostly listened to you, silently absorbing all the badness in you that you poured his way. He didn’t offer absolution, but his eyes communicated forgiveness, understanding and promise.

For the first two years you only saw the face he decided to show to the world. Sometimes you wondered if that really wasn’t his true face and the other had been just a dream.

For his third visit on your 21st birthday you were given access to a conjugal cabin. You had been a model inmate and Charlie owed you one for looking after his back. Once the door closed behind you, he showed you his true face and you knew it hadn’t been a dream. Your legs lost all their strength facing that luminous gaze and the bottomless feeling shining in them. Then you let the tears flow.

He took you into a gentle embrace, kissing away the tears. He laid you down on the bed and made you briefly feel like the Queen of the World. As you basked there in the after-glow, feeling happy for the first time since that night in the alley, he said “Happy birthday, Sunray,” and left again.

This happened again on your next birthday and the next and the next. You met in a conjugal cabin, made tender love and then he left you with, “Happy birthday, Sunray.”

* * *

Angel visited you somewhat regularly for several years but then those visits stopped abruptly. When your 27th birthday came around, he told you that Angel was no more. By that time, you had been in jail for nine-and-a-half years; more than a third of your life.

Over the years you saw the guards change. Some of your fellow inmates got released, some new ones came in. You saw the changes in those inmates that were there, like you, for the long haul, but for some reason you couldn’t see any outward changes in yourself. You had changed, so much, but for all appearances you looked exactly the same as you did on your 20th birthday. You didn’t dwell on this fact too much, brushing it away as a side-effect of you being the Slayer.

The Slayer, your sister, never contacted you and neither did any of the Scoobies, except for him. You couldn’t really blame them; you had basically fucked them over so bad that they didn’t care if you were locked away for the rest of your life; or if you were buried six feet under.

But he was a Scooby too and you had fucked him over just as bad, if not worse than the others. He had _trusted_ you and you had betrayed that trust. Yet he always came back to you, and for brief moments made you forget. You never said “sorry”, every time figuring that it was too soon. Still there was that unsaid forgiveness. You always wanted to ask “why?” but you never dared, perhaps fearing that he would tell you the truth, and you weren’t ready for that.

* * *

You were released on the 21st of June 2012, having served 12 years of your 25-to-life. You were 30 years, 6 months and 7 days old. You didn’t look a day older than 21. The doctor who checked you the day before your release commented as much.

You had told no-one the exact day of your release. You collected your stuff from the storage; your old leathers, your combat boots and $127 plus change. Just enough for a Greyhound ticket to...

Then the gates of the prison opened for you and, like in a movie, he was there. He was casually leaning against a shining red Dodge Viper with white stripes, wearing designer jeans and Ray-Bans. You could see from far away that he was not hiding himself behind an illusion. He had come for you as himself.

The distance between you didn’t seem to close at all even though your mind told you that you were walking, almost running, toward him. He made you close the distance yourself, making you be the one to bridge the divide between you two. Then, like between two blinks of an eye, you were suddenly standing a few feet away from him.

He looked exactly the same as always; so beautiful that it made your heart ache. Of course, he would have looked the same even if you had walked to freedom after 25 years, or 50 or 75. You briefly wondered how these twelve years had felt for him. What do you get when you divide forever by twelve?

He took off his sunglasses and then, finally, you allowed yourself to recognize the love that had been in his eyes for all these years.

You didn’t know which one of you made the first move but suddenly you found yourself in each other’s arms. He whispered in your ear the words that you had dreamed about so many times. “My beautiful Sunray. I’m so proud of you. I don’t need to forgive you. Just tell me. Have you forgiven yourself?”

And you said, “Yes”.

* * *

On the passenger seat are two brown envelopes. One of them is addressed to “Faith Lehane”, the other one to “Sunray.” He tells you to pick one of them. Without hesitation you pick the one addressed to _you_. He pockets the other one. You open the envelope; inside is a Platinum AMEX card with your name on it.

“That gives you one kind of freedom,” he tells you.

“What’s in the other one?” you ask him.

“Another kind of freedom, but you chose that for later.”

He waits for you to make a move. You pick up the sunglasses from his shirt pocket, put them on and step inside the car.

“What are you waiting for, Bright Eyes?” you ask him through the open window with your trade-marked dimpled smile.

You drive East, out of California. With each passing mile, you leave your years in prison further and further behind you. You know Sunnydale is not there anymore and that your sister and her friends have gone away. You don’t ask what your destination will be; you just enjoy being there, on the road, with _him_.

You stop in Las Vegas where he has had the Chairman Suite at the Bellagio reserved for you months in advance. A bottle of Dom Perignon on ice sits on top of the bar in your suite. He leads you to an opulent bathroom where a whirlpool bath awaits you.

He gently undresses you and you immerse yourself in the bath feeling the luxuriously warm water loosen the final knots in your muscles. He offers you a glass of champagne and takes off his own clothes in full view of you. He pours himself a glass and gets into the bath with you, facing you from the other side of the tub.

“You waited for me,” you tell him.

“I would have waited forever,” he answers you.

“Why me?” you ask him.

“It was always you, Sunray. My endless centuries in the Void. Arranged so that we would eventually meet.”

“And I blew it,” you tell him.

“No,” he tells you back. “I fell in love with a girl. Now I find myself in love with the woman. The Powers can seem cruel, but they are not unreasonable. They made us wait for twelve years until it was the right time.”

“What happens now?” you ask.

“Now we live and be the heroes we were meant to be. You have paid your debt to the society. Now it’s time you paid your debts to your friends.”

* * *

The new pants and jacket are of the softest, most exquisite leather you have ever touched. The price tag shocks you but he just laughs and tells you to put your new credit card into good use. He takes you to a stylist who does your hair and face with the skills of a true artist.

Afterwards you have a luxurious dinner and make love through the night. He tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, and you really believe him this time. He worships you, laying himself bare in front of you and making you fall in love with yourself once more. Finally, you are able to tell him that you have been in love with him for as long as you can remember. In the early hours of the morning, as you bask in the glorious after-glow, he sings you to sleep.

* * *

You drive for three more days, stopping overnight in Denver and Des Moines, both nights staying at the best hotel in town. As the fourth day turns to evening you start to feel it. First it is almost imperceptible but once you cross the city limits of Cleveland, the warm humming feeling inside you starts to get stronger and stronger.

The sun has already set when he turns the car to the driveway leading to the front yard of an impressive three-storey building; the Council Headquarters in the US. A nameless fear grips your heart as you check the dark façade of the place where your sister lives. He gently grabs your hand, seeing your anxiety.

“Do you trust me, Sunray?” he asks you softly. You remember him asking you that once before. Then you answered, “I do” but you broke your promise.

This time your words pour out from the heart.

“I trust you. Only you... always and forever.”

As you exit the car, the front door opens, and she is standing there. She is 31 years and 5 months old and she almost looks her age.

“Faith?” she asks incredulously as you walk closer to her.

“Yeah, B. It’s me,” you answer back.

“But you look...,” she starts and then narrows her hazel eyes at him.

“The Slayer spirit found the perfect host,” he tells her mysteriously. “The prophecy came true.”

She turns back to you and says the words you have been waiting for.

“Welcome back.”

The words promise forgiveness. You are not there yet but it is a beginning.

* * *

The gravestone is plain and unadorned. The engraved words read:

Buffy Anne Summers

1981 – 2025

Beloved sister and partner

You stand there looking at the simple words for a long time as the other funeral guests slowly disperse. Dawn and Willow are there with you and him; the two mentioned in the engraved words. Willow doesn’t look much older than you; her magic having kept her from aging. It feels suddenly weird that Dawn is the one looking the oldest of you four.

Willow surprises you by hugging you. It is the first time you two have touched since you held the knife against her throat those many years ago in Sunnydale. She says “Goodbye” and walks back to the parking lot without a backward glance.

Then Dawn hugs you as well. “You’ve been like a sister to me, Faith. I will miss you.” She kisses your cheek and follows Willow to the car.

He takes a brown envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket and hands it to you. You recognize it immediately. It is addressed to “Faith Lehane”. Inside is a passport in your name; outdated but good for renewal.

“The other half of your freedom, Sunray,” he tells you.

You stand there, side by side, by your sister’s grave watching the sun set beyond the horizon. You have a question on your lips but are hesitant to ask it.

“Those birthday visits,” you start. “It was you and her.”

“Yes,” he nods. “I never lied to you about my past relationship with Buffy. But there was more to it than just us getting together on and off. It was Willow’s idea, really. Buffy started to feel your Slayer connection weaken as you drifted further and further away from your true calling and it directly affected her. Sweet, darling Willow, who couldn’t bear to see Buffy unhappy or miserable, was there when Buffy and I made love and she mixed the essences of my _Lehaïr_ spirit and Buffy’s Slayer spirit together. When you and I made love on your birthdays, I was actually carrying a bit of Buffy’s own spirit with me. This combined essence of two demon spirits kept the true Slayer spirit in you alight, until the time you were released and found yourself again. You are the living embodiment of the Slayer spirit, Sunray; the perfect host it had been searching since the Shadow Men created the First Slayer. Each time the current Slayer died, the Spirit felt like it had failed. Each time it was forced to search for the best of the Potentials, it hoped that the new host would be the one it would stay with, forever. Regardless of the countless Slayers all over the world, you’re the one with whom the line ends; your spirit is the Slayer spirit, and the Slayer spirit is your spirit. You are, if you wish, the Eternal Slayer, Sunray. And, if you still want me, I’ll be there for you... with you.”

You realize that you have the whole world at your fingertips. You know that you two belong together, now and forever. Yet you feel a strange urge to throw it all away. All it will require is just one word. Minutes pass and you know that he feels your inner struggle. It’s all about deserve. Do you deserve a happy ending? One that will transcend time? Is Faith Lehane entitled to a happy ending?

“What happens now?” you ask him, having made your choice. You asked him the same question over a dozen years ago on the day you were released. The small smile you love so much, the one he reserves only for you, appears on his lips.

“Now we disappear,” he tells you, holding out his hand to you. “When no-one remembers us anymore and our names are just entries in some dusty old diaries in the Council library, we might come back. We were heroes for a day; let’s become legends for a lifetime.”

You think about this for a few seconds. Then you take his hand into yours. “What do you get when you add forever and forever together?” you ask him.

“Us, Sunray.”

THE END.


End file.
